ugh in a theater any day, but Plautus was
not restrained by our modern conventions. _You_ will confine yourselves,
please, to English undefiled, but I shall speak the modern equivalent to
a Roman gutter-pup's language whenever necessary. You will find this
course very illuminating--in some ways. And, who knows? you may learn
something not only about Latin but about Rome."

Hugh thought Mr. Alling was rather flippant and lacking in dignity.
Professor Kane was more like a college teacher. Before the term was out
he hated Kane with an intensity that astonished him, and he looked
forward to his Latin classes with an eagerness of which he was almost
ashamed. Plautus in the Alling free and colloquial translations was
enormously funny.

Professor Hartley, who gave the history lectures, talked in a bass
monotone and never seemed to pause for breath. His words came in a slow
steady stream that never rose nor fell nor paused--until the bell rang.
The men in the back of the room slept. Hugh was seated near the front;
so he drew pictures in his note-book. The English instructor talked
about punctuation as if it were very unpleasant but almost religiously
important; and what the various lecturers in general science talked
about--ten men gave the course--Hugh never knew. In after years all that
he could remember about the course was that one man spoke broken English
and that a professor of physics had made huge bulbs glow with marvelous
colors.

Hugh had one terrifying experience before he finally got settled to his
work. It occurred the second day of classes. He was comfortably seated
in what he thought was his English class--he had come in just as the
bell rang--when the instructor announced that it was a class in French.
What was he to do? What would the instructor do if he got up and left
the room? What would happen if he didn't report at his English class?
What would happen to him for coming into his English class late? These
questions staggered his mind. He was afraid to stay in the French class.
Cautiously he got up and began to tiptoe to the door.

"Wrong room?" the instructor asked pleasantly.

Hugh flushed. "Yes, sir." He stopped dead still, not knowing what to do
next.

He was a typical rattled freshman, and the class, which was composed of
sophomores, laughed. Hugh, angry and humiliated, started for the door,
but the instructor held up a hand that silenced the class; then he
motioned for Hugh to come to his desk.